And guilt is a bastard
Within the last three months, I’ve lost both my cousin and step-sister to cancer.
Both of them lived only into their late 30’s and early 40s.
Beka, my cousin, faced brain cancer. And my step-sister, Thresa, suffered osteosarcoma.
Both died far too young. They fought so hard but, in the end, this disease took them both.
Cancer — you’re a fucking asshole. You attack us, young and old. You have no mercy.
If humans had their shit together, we’d have solved this by now.
As I watched both of you battle it with all your heart and strength, I failed both of you.
To my cousin, Beka, I wish I had been there for you when you needed comfort. I don’t know what I could have done for you.
To Thresa, my step-sister: As an only child, I’d always wanted a sibling, especially a sister. And when I finally had one? I didn’t reach out and try to connect. I could have been a closer step-brother to you. I wish I had known you better, and now it’s too late — if it’d been up to me, we would have had time to grow up together, but when our parents married, we were already adults. Wrongly, I’d assumed we had our own lives and I didn’t want to bother you. That was cowardice, and I could have made an effort. I will always regret not knowing you and being closer.
Cancer is a fucking asshole. And guilt at lost opportunities is a real bastard.
I’m sorry, Beka and Thresa. I failed to be there for you both.
